


A Collection of Untitled SC Prompt-Ficlets I Wrote Last Night

by thingswithwings



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Gen, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:45:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21595588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thingswithwings/pseuds/thingswithwings
Summary: Last night I was having fun writing little paragraph-long ficlets to prompts from fandom friends, and decided to post them here as a collection, just to archive them. I tagged this David/Patrick, because most of the ficlets are, but there's also some David & Alexis, Patrick & Johnny, Patrick & Ray, etc. I just didn't want to clutter up the tags.Explicit rating but actually only one of these is explicit, surprisingly.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 53
Kudos: 243
Collections: The Rosebudd Ficlets





	A Collection of Untitled SC Prompt-Ficlets I Wrote Last Night

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to all the sweeties at the Rosebudd for playing this game with me!

_me: Patrick who is meticulous and scrupulous about respecting personal space while conscious and who turns into a ridiculous touchy-feely draping menace at night  
DelphinaBoswell: please could you expand this theory into a 50 000 word essay_

David holds himself careful and separate, on his side of the bed, but Patrick, once he's fallen asleep, snuffles and inches his way closer. Patrick's heavy, is the thing that David didn't expect, heavy and dense and muscular, and as his nose finds its way to David's neck and as his leg migrates overtop of David's leg, David thinks: this is what he wants, what he needs, what he can't say in the day.

*

Patrick's breath huffs against David's neck, and Patrick's thigh slides along David's thigh, and it's nothing David has ever known before, nothing at all, this deep reaching desire, this need for one another that transcends the dark and the quiet, that transcends sleep, that digs into Patrick's body, Patrick's subconscious, to make him reach out for David when he doesn't even know that David is there, waiting for him. David breathes slowly in the still sleepy room and accepts it, Patrick's arms that wrap around him, Patrick's toes against his calf, the simple realization that he's what Patrick needs most.

*

_didipickles: In line with your tweet earlier . . . can I get a snippet of bossy service sub Patrick?_

Patrick says, is this what you need? but he says it like he already knows, smug, grinning, running his hands up David's thighs, offering David little sips of water while he's tied up, making David dinner and feeding it to him, slow, sensual, practical: is this what you need? But they both know that it is, that it's what David needs and can't say, that it's what David wants and couldn't put into words, all these things that Patrick gives him.

*

_RhetoricalQuestions: The ways in which David and Patrick are different yet similar...?? I love how in AFR Patrick says that they're both planners, just in different ways. And I'm always fascinated in finding how they're similar, because those are less obvious than the differences_

There's a customer who can't tell them apart, and it drives David absolutely up the wall. David yells about her, to Patrick, after hours, yells about how they're different heights and hair colours and ethnicities, how they move differently and . . . David pauses, wanting to be sensitive . . . have different aesthetics. But the customer, the woman, who comes in, just says she wants to speak to the one who knows everything, the kind one, the one who's easy to talk to, and neither of them ever really finds out which one of them she means.

*

_leupagus: Ooh does Patrick ever try to buy a sweater for David?_

It's not that it's ugly. It would be easier, really, if it were ugly. Or even quotidian. The problem is, it's almost right. David hems and haws and shoves away the wrapping paper with his toe and looks up at the menorah gracing their side table for strength. But it's almost, almost beautiful, almost, almost right, and at the same time, Patrick is beautiful, and Patrick is right, and David loves him. "I hate it," he says, definitively, and kisses him, kisses him until he stops frowning and starts to laugh, and then he wears that sweater once a week for the rest of the winter.

*

_sunlightsymphony: What about any outside POV on David and Patrick from someone who knew Patrick pre-Schitt's Creek? (Patrick's parents, a cousin, Rachel)? I loved all of those implications in AFR that came thru in Patrick's POV_

It's nothing you can really put your finger on, Neil thinks. Patrick's the same person, weird and funny, sharp and quick, with a tendency to dance away from anything resembling a real conversation about feelings. But it's in the way his hands reach for his fiancé unconsciously, at the engagement dinner, in the way he spins around with his arms above his head when they dance, in the way he closes his eyes so briefly before he strums his guitar. Neil realizes, in that moment, that he's never seen his cousin happy before, not in the thirty-odd years he's known him, that the little crease between his eyebrows wasn't actually part of his face. Neil finds Patrick after the engagement party, and he hugs him, and he says, it's good to see you.

*

_Delilah McMuffin: Moira’s thoughts on David and Patrick during MTP_

She keeps wanting to reach out: that's the impulse, and she believes it to be a positive one, to reach out, to touch David's shoulder, to touch Patrick's; she wants to do it, and perhaps in the desire there is something to be lauded. Perhaps in the intention there is something to be admired. But she is unused to this level of realism, despite her roots in Chekhov and Shaw; she cannot quite make her hand move in the way that she wishes it would. But after, when her first born is dancing with his beau, when the two of them are happy, and at rest, when their plot is resolved and drifting into resolution, she manages it. "Sleep well, my darlings," she says, and knows from the brightness of his eyes that dear Patrick hears his first _darling_ from her and knows its significance. She smiles, hoping that it is enough, that she has been heard. She heads to sleep herself, wishing she could have said more.

*

_didipickles: The first time Patrick notices a bit of gray in David’s hair_

He doesn't say anything about it, obviously. But he can't imagine, either, that David doesn't see it, doesn't notice it, the light silver highlights above his temples, rushing backwards through his hair. Patrick lives in fear of the day David gets fed up with it and dyes it, takes away those gentle little reminders of the years they've spent together. He kisses David's temples, edging up to the topic, but says nothing at all, just presses his lips to the gray and closes his eyes and hopes that it will be enough. David doesn't dye it; David never dyes it. He turns silver, like his father and his grandfather before him, gracefully, beautifully, and Patrick treasures every single hair that shifts before his eyes and under his fingertips.

*

_RhetoricalQuestions: a pwp with chocolate and champagne_

David fucks, is the thing, David fucks regardless of the weather or the context or the setting: David fucks like Patrick's never had it before, wanton and dirty and wild, but there's something different about him when Patrick reserves them a hotel room on the occasional weekend. When Patrick feeds him chocolate and champagne and takes him to the steam room, when Patrick dotes on him and showers him in luxuries. On those rare weekends, David fucks like a fucking hurricane, fast and desperate and powerful, holding Patrick to the bed and biting at his neck, whispering filth into the shell of his ear, making Patrick shiver with the sensation of his cock buried deep and thick inside. Patrick learns early on: it only takes a little chocolate, and a little champagne, to make David fuck like this. He remembers it all the years of their life together.

*

_Distractivate: Johnny and Patrick talking about anything_

They talk about literally anything, at first, the first topics that reach their grasp in the awkward silences they share. The best way to flip a burger, the unseasonable warm weather, the expected failure of the local crops after a devastating hailstorm. But gradually, delicately, tentatively, they find their way to more substantial things: after their baseball game, the history and prospects of the Blue Jays; after the motel rollout, the difficulty of social media branding. Eventually, they both come to like it, talking together, and often end up sitting together at family functions, gravitating toward one another. The funny thing is, the funny thing is, Patrick actually has more in common with David's father than he does with David himself, if you look at it from above: business strategy and sports and the joy of working through problems logically to find an elegant solution. David teases him about it, sometimes, some Christmases, some Passovers, asks if he'd rather have married his dad. But Patrick shakes his head and kisses his husband and replies: no one like me would've kept me on my toes like you do.

*

_Delilah McMuffin: David is conflicted when Alexis leaves for the Galapagos. He hates that she’s leaving - that part is too familiar. But knowing he won’t have to chase her around the world... he feels a bit like she’s outgrown him._

David takes Alexis in his arms, and it's not the first time, but it's the first time in a while. When they were young, he did it all the time, held her, sometimes like a prized possession and sometimes like the most important human being in the world, and when she left him to explore and adventure he remembered with longing those moments when she was small and safe in his arms. Now, he buries his face in her neck and accepts her hands on his back and thinks about how she'll be fine in the Galapagos, how she was always fine, really, but he also thinks about how they hugged after she and Mutt broke up, how she twinkled at him when he and Patrick held each other after Ken; he thinks about the years they've spent in each other's back pockets learning to love proximity. David holds her in his arms and it's not something they've done a lot but at the same time he doesn't want to let go, as if it's something he's gotten used to, something he can't live without. Then she pulls away to go and get on her plane, and David misses her even before the warmth of her body has left his arms.

*

_barelypink: David and Patrick get a pet._

The cat comes first, scraggly and wet, underfed and underweight, found in the ditch behind the store when Patrick was taking the garbage out. It loves David like it loves food and attention and companionship, even though David is slow to offer any of these, and eventually it―she―rides on David's shoulder while he drives to vendor meetings, and stalks around their store whenever David's staffing, and curls up in David's lap in the evenings, possessive and entitled, like she never belonged anywhere else. The dog comes later, years later, when Patrick gets antsy and nostalgic and starts cruising local animal shelters like they're the gay bars he should've visited in his twenties, bringing home photos and videos to share with David and his strange witchy familiar cat. Eventually, the right dog shows up at the right time, and it licks David's face and messes up David's rugs with hair and it loves David too, messy in a way the cat never was, affectionate and over the top, and Patrick can't stop grinning at the sight of it.

*

_Delilah McMuffin: Johnny at David & Patrick’s wedding_

It's not that he hadn't planned for it, of course, because he's had a suit at the ready since two thousand and eight; it's just that he never really accepted that he'd be here, at the wedding of one of his children, not even to a weird obscure member of European royalty or a performance artist who only works in menstrual blood. It's just David, his son David, and the love of his life. Johnny smiles through the whole ceremony, tears rising at the corners of his eyes, to recognize the humour and the passion and the devotion he's always felt for Moira, reflected in his son's eyes, in the gentle motions of his hands as he puts a ring on his husband's finger. Johnny planned for this, but he never expected this, and he thinks it's probably forgivable if he has to blow his nose once or twice while the Rabbi is speaking.

*

_kiranerys42: Ray’s first impression of Patrick_

Ray's had a room for years, and he's seen a lot of people stay in it: defiant lesbians with short haircuts and strong opinions on their father's place in the patriarchy, sweet trans boys with sketchbooks full of androgynous superheroes, people―children, Ray starts to think, even though they're all over twenty-five―people who want more than what they learned, were taught, had access to. Ray lets them stay with him, for a reasonable rate, and he takes them under his wing, when he can. On the day Patrick shows up in Schitt's Creek, Ray's latest tenant has just left the room behind, opting to find her own apartment with her girlfriend, and Ray offers it to this kind, hesitant, determined young man who's left everything he knows behind. Patrick doesn't say that he's gay, but Ray's been through this a lot of times, and whether he is or not, Patrick needs his help. Ray needs the rent. It works out.


End file.
